People often assume that I grew up on a farm, I did not. I was a city girl for sure.
I was raised in a small house on second street in Abilene, Ks. Yet some of my fondest lessons came from my mother, who spent her summers farming with her family when she was a little girl. She carried those traditions with her throughout her life and passed them down to us. She taught us how to bake from scratch, crochet with our hands, and appreciate the simple ways things used to be. Looking back, I can see that she planted the seeds in my heart long before I ever dreamed of owning livestock or milking cows.
Brent's story was different.
He was raised on a farm from the age of nine. His family raised hogs and cattle, and his mother had horses. They were active in American Royal, so farming wasn't just something he knew - it was part of who he was.
When our paths crossed, we were both carrying wounds from our pasts.
I was recovering from an abusive relationship, trying to rebuild my life one day at a time. Brent was learning how to move forward after the end of a marriage that had lasted nearly thirty years. (He is ten years older than me) Neither of us knew what God had planned, but He did.
At the time, I owned a small farmhouse on ten acres that I had remodeled including an add on and updating everything in the home. My previous relationship had been filled with dreams that never quite aligned. I wanted to use the land - to raise animals, grow food, and build something meaningful. The land was there, but the vision wasn't shared.
When Brent came into my life, everything changed.
He helped finish remodeling the farmhouse even completing a new addition on his own. And worked beside me cleaning up the pasture. For the first time, I wasn't chasing a dream alone. I had someone beside me who believe in the same vision.
Once the remodel was complete, I made a decision that surprised many people. I chose to the sell that home. It wasn't because I didn't love it - it was because I wanted us to begin a new chapter together. I didn't want a house that was just mine. I wanted a home that belonged to both of us.
To our surprise, a home had recently entered the market. This home belonged to a couple that were long time friends of Brent's grandparents. He even had bought his first truck from the very pasture he owns now. Remnants of his grandparents can be found all over the 1895 farmhouse on three acres. Even their old home phone number written down as an emergency contact next to the kitchen phone.
Yes it only came with three acres, but I remember saying, "I don't care if it's only three acres - it's going to get used".
Brent smiled and agreed without hesitation.
That simple moment may not have seemed important to anyone else, but it meant everything to me. For the first time in my life, someone wasn't standing in the way of my dreams. They were helping me to build them.
Looking back now, I don't believe that was an accident.
I truly believe God sent Brent into my life at exactly the right time. He knew I needed someone who would encourage me, challenge me, and walk beside me through every success and every setback that was still to come.
And there is the beginning of our homestead story. This was where I truly understood Proverbs 3:5-6 (KJV) 'Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths'.
Next Week, I'll share what happened after we moved in, the animals we started with, and how God slowly led us to the dairy cows that would completely change our lives.